The Geographical Journal (Journal of the Royal Geographical Society): Volume XVI, No. 6 [‎372v] (97/232)

670 ON THE AFGHAN FRONTIER: A RECONNAISSANCE IN SHUGNAN.
six months of the year this mountain is covered with snow, and it is then quite
impassable; in the summer, however, there is no difficulty. On the very summit
the road forks, the right-hand branch leading to the valley of the Toguz-bulak
river, a tributary of the Gund, and the left-hand one to the Shakh-Dara valley.
Here we halted, and after dividing up our baggage train our party split up, I myself
being with the division which pursued the Shakh-Dara route.
We reached the Kok-bai plateau, which is surrounded by snow-capped mountains.
We were now at a great altitude, many of our party suffering from incipient head
ache, and all were glad when the road, after turning to the left, descended along the
banks of the stream Kok-bai-Chat, source of the river Shakh-Dara. Here we
camped for the night, starting again at 7.15 a.m. As we proceeded, the character of
the country gradually changed, and the scenery began to get more diversified. It
was indeed time, for we were all heartily sick of the great “ monotonous Pamir,”
which should furnish an ideal country for the pessimist if he is ever in want of
such.
Indeed, for an image to express downright, utter melancholy, in the abstract, I
cannot think of anything more apt than the picture of a pessimist reading Scho
penhauer in the Pamirs. It is the “ land of no hope.” But although the scenery
was now more cheering to the eye, this was an advantage only purchased at the
expense of weary limbs, for the roads went from bad to worse. We stumbled on,
however, encouraged by the sight of wild-rose bushes and the warmer-tinted
vegetation which bordered our route. A wild rose is perhaps not much, in an
ordinary way, to make a fuss about, but to any poor wanderer, like ourselves, whose
eyes were tired and aching from the monotony of a Pamir landscape, it will appear,
as it did to us, as a sign from God in the midst of the wilderness. But we still had
to go through some wearisome plodding, for the road hereabouts is most precipitous.
My heart knocked apprehensively against my ribs several times when my horse
stumbled on the edge of some chasm or slipped in some deep rut on a breakneck
descent. The best thing for a man to do in such cases is to trust implicitly to his
horse ; and not to attempt to control or guide it in any way, for the horse’s instinct
will be a surer and safer guide out of the danger than the judgment of its rider.
Many a life has been lost, of horse and man, through humanity’s insufferable conceit
in its own prowess, and through its often ignorant contempt for the powers of that
noble servant of man, the horse.
After a rough up-and-down scramble, a steep descent brought us to the con
fluence of the Koi-bai-Chat and the Mats. From this spot we had a truly splendid
view of the distant snow-capped Wakhan mountains and the green valley of the
Jaushankuz river, the latter being one of the sources of the Shakh-Dara. Of the
Wakhan mountain range, two peaks tower pre-eminent, one rising to a height of
23,000 feet, and the other, the Tsaritsa Maria, to 20,000 feet above sea-level.
These two majestic mountains stand adjacent and tower above all the others in
their impressive majesty and might.
We soon came out into the valley of the Jaushankuz river, and thence to a
place called by the Kirghiz Depchi-utun, “ the trough-like.” The path here
became very steep and broken, but afterwards improved greatly. At this point we
met ten Tajiks, who, hearing of the approach of the expedition, had come forward
several versts * to meet us. Our guide, Azis-Khan, displayed much pleasurable
excitement at meeting his compatriots, and when he came upon a second “ welcom
ing party ” a mile or so further on, his delight was at its height.
When they saw us, the Tajiks dismounted from their horses and took us quite
* One Russian verst = 0'6 English mile.